


Requested Entry

by orphan_account



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: It's an allegory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 07:32:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19807621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Chanhee wants to debut.





	Requested Entry

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of _Before the Law_ by Franz Kafka.
> 
> Kafka's a better writer than me. [Go read him.](http://www.kafka-online.info/before-the-law.html)

"I'd like to debut."

A stubborn, magenta pink thing prostrates itself in front of a wooden door. The guard looks down at it, then looks away.

"I said -"

"I heard you." The guard is unmoving.

"Well?" the pink thing asks, popping non-existent chewing gum, "Can I debut?"

The guard, sitting on an upturned wicker-basket, still manages to loom over the aspiring idol. He's terrified of him standing up, so he clicks his tongue instead.

"This is your first test."

"Okay," it says, ears perking up, "what do I have to do?"

"You have to pass."

"Pass what?" the pink-haired thing asks, growing more irritated.

"You have to pass." The guard is wearing a black coat and a wide-brimmed hat. He cannot see his eyes.

He thinks he understands what he means.

He sings a Western song, by an artist whose name he can't remember. Every note is spotless, pitch-perfect. Any passer-by would mistake him for being fluent.

There are no bystanders to vouch for him, the area cold, white and unfeeling.

He finishes his song. The guard doesn't speak.

"Did I pass?"

The wind blows past.

He thinks he understands now. He does the full choreography to a girl group song. Pitches his voice up. Pumps up the aegyo. Ends his performance with a flourish and a finger heart.

The guard's monolithic shadow stays stoic against the door.

The pink haired thing catches his breath, angry.

"Wait, I think I get it now." He walks towards the guard. He puts his dainty hands on where a belt would be. It's not a coat. It's a shawl of black fabric, loose and soft between his fingers. The flesh feels like water.

The guard doesn't move when he speaks: "No."

The pink haired thing retreats.

He takes a glance around, bored. There's another overturned wicker-basket at the opposite side of the door.

He sits on it.

Days and nights pass. Or maybe they don't. He has no way of telling.

A window would be nice.

He perfects the art of sleeping upright.

He pesters the guard with questions. Sometimes he gets answers, sometimes he gets silence. Sometimes he gets responses as irate as his own questions. It's the only thing reminding him he's human.

One night, he pulls a strand of hair over his own eyes. He's brunette. He looks at his fingertips, to see if the magenta colour rubbed off. His own pale fingerprints stare back.

He sleeps after that, and wakes again. Sleeps some more. Asks the guard about the training process. Receives a grunt. Sleeps.

When he wakes, he runs a finger down the bridge of his nose. There's a bump that he forgot existed. A bump that his parents were kind enough to get sliced off for him.

He drops his hand.

Where are his parents?

He slides off his wicker-basket. Nearly falls down trying to stand up.

He puts one foot in front of the other. Ignores his vertigo. Remembers how to walk.

He turns to the towering cloak of black.

Checks the non-existent watch on his fading wrist.

Looks back to the guard.

It's the same height as the door now. Getting taller.

"Hey, I'm gonna go. I think it's time for me to enlist now, anyway."

Silence.

"A question before I go."

"Yes?"

"People debut as idols all the time..."

"Yes."

"How come I never got to debut?"

"You want to debut?" the void replies.

"Yes," he snaps.

The echo of its voice vibrates around him. "Why didn't you say?"

The monolith stands up.

It opens the door.

**Author's Note:**

> [Cancel me on Twitter.](https://twitter.com/hieronymuscob)


End file.
